.." he
checked them off on his fingers, pausing finally for lack of breath.
"You've forgotten the Palace Hotel," said Alice smiling.
"No," Benito said, "I hadn't got that far. But the Palace is typical.
Ralston wants San Francisco to have the best of everything the world can
give. He's mad about this town. It's wife and child to him. Why it's
almost his God!"
Alice looked into his eyes. "You're fearful for your prince! You Monte
Cristo!"
"Yes," he said, "I'm frankly worried. Something's got to drop.... It's
too--too splendid."
* * * * *
As he went down Market street toward Montgomery, Benito paused to
observe the new Palace Hotel. Hundreds of bricklayers, carpenters and
other workmen were raising it with astonishing speed. Hod-carriers raced
up swaying ladders, steam-winches puffed and snorted; great vats of lime
and mortar blockaded the street. It was to have a great inner court upon
which seven galleries would look down. Ralston boasted he would make it
a hotel for travelers to talk of round the world. And no one in San
Francisco doubted it.
Benito, eyes upraised to view the labors of a bustling human hive,
almost collided with two gentlemen, who were strolling westward, arm in
arm.
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